Daytona
by KatGrl2003
Summary: Just some silliness. SG1 goes on vacation. Chap. 6 SG1 separates.
1. Daytona International Speedway

Author: KatGrl2003

Disclaimers: SG-1, Dale Earnhardt Jr, Michael Waltrip, Jimmie Johnson, and Jeff Gordon do not belong to me.

Summary: Just some silliness. SG-1 goes on vacation

* * *

SG-1 Visits Daytona

"Um, Sam? Why are we here?" asked Daniel.

"Didn't General Hammond tell us to go on vacation?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"Well, this is vacation. What could be better than watching one ton machines run under the lights at Daytona? Besides, I managed to get us rides in the cars before the race at full speed!"

At this, Daniel turned green, Jack looked excited, and Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow.

"Who are we riding with, Sam?" Jack asked.

"Let me introduce you to the guys who will be our drivers. Meet Dale Earnhardt Jr, Jeff Gordon, Jimmie Johnson, and Mikey Waltrip."

"Oh, man, this is gonna be great!" shouted Jack.

* * *

10 minutes later

"Colonel, I will be gracious, and let you have the first ride."

"You had better, Major. Remember, I'm you CO. Now," Jack said, rubbing his hands together in excitement, "who is the craziest driver here?"

All eyes turned to Jr. "What? Oh, come on guys, I'm not that bad!"

"Well, while the colonel and Jr. are going around the track, why don't we take the rest of you to the announcer's booth? You can see the entire track from there, and can see what you all get to do in a few minutes."

"Indeed, Jeff Gordon. That would be most insightful." stated Teal'c. With that, they all started up the stairs to the announcer's booth.

* * *

The car looked fast even sitting on pit road. It was bright red, with a white number 8 on the side. It had the Budweiser symbol on the front, and a multitude of other sponsors dotting the fenders. It had no doors, but was sleek, and looked like a bullet. Jack was in love.

"Uh, colonel? If you're ready, you can stop touching the car, and actually climb inside."

"Wha-? Oh, yeah. Sorry."

Jack carefully climbed in what would be the passenger window in a normal car. One of the pit crew reached in and strapped him in. Once he was encased in the form-fitting seat, he could barely move. He had five straps encasing him – one over each shoulder, one over each hip, and one between his legs. His head was held in place by a restraint system attached to the helmet. He felt one with the machine.

Jr climbed in next. He was able to strap himself in the seat, and after a minute, looked over at Colonel O'Neill.

"Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure youbetcha! Put the petal to the metal!"

"Yes, sir. Petal to the metal it is."

With that, Jr dropped the hammer, and the car shot off of pit road.

* * *

The group of six had just finished ascending the stairs to the announcer's booth when the number 8 car shot out of pit lane. 

"Whoa!" shouted Daniel. "Are we gonna go as fast as Jack and Dale are?"

"Not if you don't want to," answered Mikey. "Junior is heavy on the accelerator, and loves to show off his speed."

Sam looked over at her teammate. "Are you really saying that you're not looking forward to riding in one of the cars?"

"Yes, Sam, that's exactly what I'm saying. I'm perfectly fine with going 55mph on the interstate. Unless Jack's driving, that is."

"Well, Dr. Jackson, if you are that worried, you can be my passenger. I will take it quite a bit easier on the accelerator than Junior, and I'll show you that racing can be fun." stated Mikey. "But for now, let's watch the colonel get absolutely terrified."

With that, all eyes turned to the car racing around Daytona International Speedway.

* * *

A/N: So, what do ya'll think for my first fic? I'll try to update soon. 


	2. Jack's ride

Disclaimers: Once again, SG-1, Dale Earnhardt Jr, Michael Waltrip, Jimmie Johnson, and Jeff Gordon do not belong to me. I'm a poor college student. There's no point in suing me.

A/N: Here's the second chapter! Boy, this is making it a lot easier to write when I realize people are actually reading it!

* * *

"SWEET!" was the reaction from the colonel, heard through every headset at the track. 

The 8 car heading up onto the banking, into turn one. It looked like the car was going to hit the wall. It tore through the corner, inches away from destruction. As the car headed towards the backstretch, it was still picking up speed.

"So, colonel, what do you think so far? Is this as exciting as you thought it would be?" asked Jr.

"You do this for 500 laps!"

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, I only have permission for 10 laps for you."

"There's no unfortunate there! I feel like my brain's being squeezed out my ears!"

A definite female laugh came over the headsets. "Is the big, bad colonel admitting he can't do something?"

"Carter!" came the answer. Somehow, the colonel managed to shout and grit his teeth at the same time. "You just wait until you're in one of these! It's a lot different on the other side of the door, uh, window!"

By this time, the car was on its fifth lap, and up to full speed. The advertisements lining the walls of Daytona couldn't be seen clearly anymore. Everything was a blur. The colonel didn't know how anyone could do this for 10 laps, let alone 500. And with 42 other crazy drivers!

Jack was terrified. Jack was out of his mind with excitement. Nothing could pass this feeling. At one point in his life, the colonel thought battling the goa'uld was the ultimate adrenaline high. Not anymore.

After five more laps, Jr finally started to slow the car, but passed the entrance to pit road. Jack gave Jr a look of horror and excitement, which the driver couldn't see through the helmet. The colonel knew exactly what they were going to do, and he wasn't sure what his reaction would be when all was said and done.

By the time the car reached the start/finish line, it was still going well over 60 miles an hour. Nevertheless, Jr shot a look at the colonel, and turned the steering wheel sharply to the left. There was a shout somewhere from the passenger's side as the car started doing donuts through the infield.

After the car slowed considerably, Jr made his way to pit road. As the car came to a stop for the first time in several minutes, there was absolutely no movement from the passenger side of the car.

* * *

Daniel looked over pit road with a worried expression on his face. "Uh, guys? Jack's not moving." 

"It's probably nothing to worry about, Dr. Jackson." said Jimmie. "I know I was in shock after my first time at Daytona. He'll be alright as soon as his feet are on solid ground."

Everyone in the announcer's booth looked on pit road at the now still car. Crew members for the number 8 team rushed out to release both men from their restraints. Jr climbed out of the window with ease, and walked over to the passenger side of the car. At that point, Colonel O'Neill decided to jump out of the car. Everyone looked on as the now animated colonel was nearly doing cartwheels in the infield.

* * *

"So, colonel, how did you like the ride?" asked Jeff a few minutes later. 

"Peachy." came the reply. Everyone stared at him. "Ok! It was a huge, honkin' adrenaline rush, alright!"

"So…" cut in Mikey, in the uneasy silence after the colonel's remark. "Who's up for the next ride?"

Daniel took a step back. Sam took a step forward. Teal'c stayed where he was. Everyone was laughing at the varied reactions. Daniel looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, Sam was looking like she wanted to drive the car herself, and Teal'c? Well, Teal'c looked like his normal, stoic self.

"Well, it looks like Sam wants to ride next." said Daniel. "But who's she gonna ride with?"

The three remaining drivers looked at each other and shrugged. "I'm taking Daniel, so it's between Jeff and Jimmie." said Mikey. The other two drivers again looked at each other and shrugged.

Mikey looked over at the two Hendricks drivers. "Jeff, why don't you drive with the major, since you've been in racing a little longer? You can explain the nuances of the car to her, and Jimmie can drive with Teal'c."

Again, the glances to each other and the shrugs. "In that case Major, it looks like you and I are up for a ride." stated Jeff. "Let's head on down to pit road."

Everyone watched and laughed as Sam nearly raced Jeff down the stairs in her eagerness to get to the car.

* * *

A/N: I tried to make it longer, really, I did! I put off sociology homework to do this, but that won't happen too many times. And again, finals are coming up, so updates should be on a weekly basis. 

Oh, I don't have a beta yet. Any volunteers?


	3. Sam gets loose

Disclaimers: I wish they belonged to me, but they don't. If they did, I'd be writing this fic from the house that I shared with Dale Earnhardt, Jr.

A/N: Here we go again! Let's see what kind of trouble Carter can get into in a racecar. Beware, since Carter's in the car, technobabble is rampant. Also beware, all the technobabble I know is from NASCAR races. Some of it may be a bit off.

A/N 2: Not beta'd (is that a word?), so any and all mistakes are mine.

A/N 3: gater62 said I should have put in Matt Kenseth. He will be making an appearance. Any other requests for a specific driver? I'll do my best to work them in.

* * *

Now it was Sam's turn to slobber over a car – the number 24 car. She even insisted the crew raise the hood, so she could see the inner workings of the car. "You still use a carburetor? I thought all cars had gone to fuel injectors!" Before anyone could answer, she continued with her ramblings. "Oh, for crying out loud, where did they put the battery?" She straightened up suddenly. "Holy Hannah, I said a Jackism!"

Jeff gave Sam an odd look as he walked slowly over to her. "Do you want to look at the car or ride in it?"

Sam looked at him with a grin. "Well, I want to drive it, but that isn't gonna happen. So, I guess I'll get in the passenger side."

"Let's get going, then, shall we?"

Sam eased herself in the window. "Wow!" She started climbing into the back of the car. "What do these tubes do?"

Jeff caught the back of her shirt and pulled her back into the seat. "Why don't we go for the ride first, then explore the car, hmm?"

He was still laughing at her enthusiasm as he pulled on his helmet. After a few moments both Sam and Jeff were belted in. "Wave to your friends in the booth, Major, because here we GO!"

With that, the car roared to life, and started down pit road.

* * *

The people in the announcer's booth all looked down as the car started accelerating off of pit road. Daniel looked relieved. "So the cars don't have to go as fast as Junior did! Thank God."

"But Dannyboy, that takes all the fun out of it! Going fast was the best part!"

"Oh, and you were having fun when your brains were being squeezed out your ears! But, considering you LIKE this, whether you had brains to begin with is in question."

As Jack put an offended look on his face, Junior spoke up. "It's an acquired taste. You either love it or hate it."

"Alright, enough chatter campers! Let's watch Sam."

Again, all eyes turned to the track.

* * *

"Holy Hannah!" Nobody could see it, but Sam had a grin a mile wide. "I see what you mean, Colonel! I feel like I'm pushing through the back of the seat! This is a blast!"

She watched for a minute as the wall seemed to jump at her. Physically, she knew it wasn't possible, but that didn't stop her from leaning away. "This is incredible! The centrifugal forces are more massive than I expected!"

She heard Daniel laughing at her over the headset. "Sam! Relax! Enjoy the ride, and stop analyzing everything!"

At that point, the rear of the car wiggled. Sam immediately reached her hands out for one of the many protruding bars to steady herself. "What was that?"

Jeff's eyes stayed right on the track. "That was one of the more common conditions with a racecar. There are two main ones: loose and tight. Tight is when the car doesn't want to turn in the corners. It can get rather messy. Loose is what we just experienced. The rear end of the car starts turning before the front end. The result if you don't correct in time is a spin – hopefully not in front of a bunch of other cars."

Jimmie's voice immediately came over their headsets. "Jeff, do you need to bring it in? You were heading sideways for a minute."

"We're ok. It wasn't as bad as it looked. Besides," he said with a glance at Sam, "we're not even at full speed yet."

"What are we waiting for then?" she shot back. "Put this puppy in gear and GO!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The car shot into the corner.

* * *

Jack looked worriedly on the track. "Are you all sure it's safe? I don't want to risk my team's safety."

"Colonel!" Everyone in the room jumped at the sound of the very angry Major. "I am a major in the United States Air Force. I believe I can take care of myself, thank you very much!"

"Oh, she's not a happy camper." muttered Daniel.

"Indeed."

* * *

The 24 car roared around the last corner. "Yeah! We won the Daytona 500!"

"What!"

"Jeff!"

"Sorry, guys, strong feeling of déjà vu."

Sam was sitting in the passenger seat, laughing at the interaction between the drivers when Jeff spoke. "Major, do you want to do something similar to the donuts that Colonel O'Neill experienced?"

"Ya think?" Sam grimaced. Jackisms were becoming part of her daily vocabulary.

"In that case, let's try a burnout."

As Sam gave him an excited look, he slowly nosed the car up to the wall. As soon as the front of the car touched the wall, he pushed on the gas. Smoke filled the air as the back tires tried to push the car through the wall. The engine roared. The tires squealed. The entire car shook with differing forces. It was a complete overload of the senses.

After what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality was only a minute or so, Jeff let off the gas, and the car slowly rolled away from the wall. Sam shook her head to clear the cobwebs and glanced over at the driver. "Let's do that again!"

"Major!"

Sam sat straight up in the seat. "Sir!"

"It's time to come back, Major. Besides, you want to see Danny's face when he heads down for his ride, don't you?"

An evil grin covered Sam's face. "Yes, sir!"

The silence over the headsets was broken by a single word. "Jaack!"

* * *

"So, Daniel," Sam said a few minutes later, "are you looking forward to your ride?" Daniel glowered at her.

Mikey stepped in. "Oh, ease up on him. I'll take it easy during your ride, Dr. Jackson."

"It's Daniel. If you're going to terrorize me at 180 miles an hour, then at least call me by my first name."

After everybody got in a few chuckles, Mikey motioned towards the door. "Shall we, Dr. Ja – I mean Daniel?"

Daniel let out a sigh, and headed out the door. As he was walking down the stairs Sam summed up everybody's feelings in one sentence. "Oh, he's not a happy camper."

* * *

A/N: Woohoo! My first 1,000 word chapter! I again put off sociology homework to do this – anybody noticing a pattern here? Sorry, scottiedog, but fics are more interesting than learning about the McDonaldization of American culture (my teachers words, not mine). 


	4. Spacemonkey's trip

A/N: This is getting fun. Even I don't know where this story is heading! Well, it's Danny's turn. I wonder what kind of fun we're gonna have this chapter! Oh, and imagine Mikey still drives the 15 car, and he and Junior are still teammates. I'm still mad they broke up the dream team. :( Also, if ya'll have a request for a specific driver to be put in the story, just let me know! I'll try to work them in. Oh, not beta'd, so any mistakes are mine.

* * *

Daniel stood on pit road in a very familiar position. He was standing off to the side of everyone else, alone, with his arms wrapped around his chest. He was not looking forward to this. After a few minutes, he worked up enough nerve to walk over to the car. He took a few seconds to look over what was to be his prison for the next 10 laps. It was a car. A car with metal poles and tubes in odd places in the interior, and a weird looking seat. Daniel took a deep breath and turned to face Mikey. He had been waiting patiently the entire time Daniel worked up his nerves.

"Daniel? Are you ready?"

"No. But if I don't do this, Jack's never gonna let me hear the end of it. Let's get it over with."

Mikey shot him a look. "Daniel. I know you think you aren't gonna like this, but give it a chance. It's a new experience. Besides, if your only experience in fast driving was the colonel, then I can guarantee this will be safer."

Daniel gave a short laugh. "You've got a point there. Ok. Let's do it."

Mikey gave him a huge grin. "That's more like it! Let's get this show on the road, boys!"

With that, the pit crew jumped to work strapping the two men into the car.

* * *

Jack was staring out the window. "I don't know about this, guys. Maybe we shouldn't have pushed him into this."

Junior stepped up next to Jack. "At least he's getting in the car. If he really didn't want to do this, he wouldn't get in."

SG-1 stared down at the track as their Spacemonkey was strapped into the number 15 car. They were suddenly very nervous. Daniel wasn't an adrenaline junkie like the rest of them. He also seemed to attract accidents like a magnet. Was this latest idea just asking for trouble?

* * *

Mikey looked over at his passenger. "Are you ready?"

Daniel stared at him. "I'm strapped in a machine that's about to go 160 miles an hour. All I can do is hang on. I have no control over where we go, how fast we go, or when we stop. Yeah, I'm ready."

"Alright, then, let's hit it!" Mikey stepped on the gas, and they accelerated off pit lane.

All that could be heard from the passenger side was one phrase, repeated over and over. "Oh god, oh god, oh god…"

The car kept picking up speed as it moved into turn one. After they finished the first lap, Daniel felt himself starting to relax. This really wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Jack's driving scared him worse than this. Mikey was laying off the accelerator, taking it easy until Daniel was ready. If that moment ever came.

"Whoops!"

Daniel's helmet turned towards the driver. "Whoops! I don't want to hear 'whoops!' Whoops is a very bad thing to say while you're going 160 miles per hour with another person's life in your hands!"

"Actually, we're going 140."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!"

"Relax, Daniel. The car just went squirrelly for a second. Everything's under control."

Daniel glared at Mikey before taking his advice. He tried to relax. He closed his eyes to use the rest of his senses for this experience. He could feel the wind blowing through the window net. He could hear the engine roaring as it pulled them around the track. Even the air itself was different at Daytona. It smelled different. It tasted different. Daniel opened his eyes as he realized what the difference was. He was at Daytona. A place built for speed. A place for taking chances. He was ready.

Daniel glanced over at his driver. "Mikey, let's do this!"

"Are you sure, Daniel?"

"I'm ready!"

Mikey started pressing on the accelerator as a strange voice came over their headsets. "Yee-haw, boys, let's boogity, boogity, boogity!"

The steering wheel nearly left Mikey's hands. "Dee-dub?"

* * *

Up in the announcer's booth, another person had joined the group. Darryl Waltrip, three-time Winston Cup winner, and 1989 winner of the Daytona 500. He is also the older brother of Mikey Waltrip, and a TV announcer for NASCAR races. "Come on boys, let's crank it up!"

The remaining members of SG-1 had been watching Danny's ride closely, and hadn't heard DW come in. At the sound of his unusual catchphrases, they turned as one towards the NASCAR legend. He was looking over the track with his trademark grin. "Come on, Mikey, give the doctor the ride of his life!"

Junior stepped over to the group. "Colonel, Major, Teal'c, let me introduce you to Darryl Waltrip. He's Mikey's brother, and the announcer for the races. I think he heard about our little session."

Mikey voice came over the headset. "Hey DW, I thought you weren't gonna be up there for another hour or so. But since you're already in the booth, why don't you talk us in?"

"That's a big 10-4, buddy. You're on your 8th lap. Bring her on home."

* * *

Mikey had eased on the accelerator until he was up to his max speed. Daniel was having the time of his life. He was being pushed back into the seat, Mikey was hitting his marks perfectly, and they had an honest-to-god NASCAR legend talking them to the checkered flag.

"And the number 15 car shoots into turn one of his final lap! No letting off the accelerator now, boys. That's it, buddy, straight and fast down the backstretch. Into turn three, Waltrip is still leading. One more corner, Mikey! That's it! You got it, you got it! MIKEY!"

Daniel and Mikey roared across the start/finish line at over 180 miles per hour. Daniel could imagine hearing the screams of the fans. Wait. He could actually hear the screams of the fans. Looking beyond the window net, he could see that fans were already streaming into the speedway in preparation for the race. Incredible. He had just gone 10 laps with a Daytona 500 winner, with a NASCAR legend talking them to the checkered flag, and surrounded by screaming fans. It was an adrenaline rush that none other could beat.

At the finish of their cool-down lap, Mikey stopped at the start/finish line. Daniel gave him a quizzical look. "What are you planning?"

Mikey turned the car 180 degrees. "Now that you've experienced several full speed laps, it's time you experienced something called a Polish victory lap. Alan Kulwiki started it. It's a backwards lap, which allows the fans to see the driver better. So, Daniel, wave to your adoring fans." With this statement, Mikey put his arm out the window and waved to the fans as they drove by. Daniel followed suit.

* * *

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." stated Daniel.

"Indeed. You seem much more relaxed now."

"Yeah. I'm really looking forward to the rest of this vacation now."

"So, kids," cut in the colonel, "shall we see what Jimmie has in store for Teal'c?"

All four members of SG-1 turned as one towards the driver of the number 48 car. The grins on their faces made him very nervous. He turned towards Jeff. "Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about this?"

His teammate grinned back. "Don't worry. Just drive the wheels off the car and give him the ride of his life."

"That doesn't make me feel any better." Jimmie turned towards the team. "Well, Teal'c, if you're ready, let's head on down."

"Indeed."

As the two headed down towards pit road, a voice was heard to mutter, "I don't know who to feel sorrier for, Jimmie or Teal'c."

* * *

A/N: Wow! I still have no idea where this is going, but it's getting exciting! I wonder how Teal'c's gonna react to his ride. And I just HAD to get DW in there somewhere. Did it work? Let me know! 


	5. Teal'c's trip

A/N: Teal'c's turn! Let's see how the most serious guy in the SGC deals with one of the fastest tracks in NASCAR. I apologize for the lateness of this chapter. Finals are almost over, so hopefully I will go back to the weekly updates.

* * *

The Tau'ri were strange. His dealings with the people at the SGC had proved that. But these new Tau'ri, they made Teal'c almost do a double take. Looking up into the stands, Teal'c could see many examples of the oddness of the human species. There were several men sitting near the flagstand wearing no shirts, but with writing on their chests. There was another man walking through the infield with the number 3 shaved into his hairy back. The Tau'ri were an odd people.

Jimmie was standing next to the car, looking more and more nervous. Teal'c was a big guy, and Jimmie was getting worried about how this experience was gonna turn out. With a sigh, he slowly climbed into the car and started buckling up.

Teal'c gave one final glance at the Tau'ri in the stands and headed towards the number 48 car. He now added the NASCAR drivers into his mental list of things not to ask about. Hopefully, this would be similar to his first time in a death glider. That was the closest Teal'c had ever come to an adrenaline rush.

* * *

"Ok, I think I've made up my mind. I feel sorrier for Jimmie."

Junior walked over to the window next to the colonel. "Why is that?"

"You don't know Teal'c. From what I've seen, Jimmie is talkative, hyper, and ready for action. Teal'c has two phrases he uses – indeed and very well. They are on the opposite ends of the spectrum."

"But why do you feel sorrier for Jimmie?"

Daniel moved up next to Junior. "You just have to know Teal'c. He's got a calmness about him that is just eerie. He's Teal'c. There's no other way to say it."

"Well then guys," started Jeff. A loud cough came from behind him. "Excuse me. Well then guys and Major Carter, shall we see who is victorious in the battle of the wills?"

The three members of SG-1 turned towards the window and as one muttered, "Teal'c."

* * *

As soon as both men were strapped into the car, Jimmie looked over at Teal'c. "Are you ready?"

"Indeed."

Jimmie shot an odd look at his passenger as muffed laughter came over the headsets. "In that case, let's git 'er dun!" With that, the 48 car roared off pit road.

Teal'c could feel the forces pushing him back into the seat as the car moved up onto the banking of the track. The wind was whipping through the window, just adding to the experience. Nothing could describe this. Well, maybe something.

"Chelnok."

"What's that mean, Teal'c?" asked Jimmie.

"Direct translation: very cool." came the answer over his headset.

* * *

The rest of SG-1 and the four NASCAR drivers still in the announcer's booth were watching the car race around the track. They saw Jimmie rush into the corners, cutting them down almost to the grass to decrease his lap times. Turning into the corners like this also helped him keep up his speed. Jimmie never let off the gas.

By his second lap, he was up to full speed. Jeff was timing his teammate. Although this wasn't the car he would be running in the actual race, timing the car still helped them with ideas for the race. The 48 car was putting down some of the best laps of all four drivers.

Jeff spoke into his headset. "Jimmie, you're getting in some good laps. First hot lap was 53.024 seconds."

The colonel gave Jeff a quizzical look. "Yeah, just let me do the math on that. Does somebody want to convert that to numbers I can use?"

Several voices answered at once, all with the same answer. Jimmie and Teal'c were going nearly 170 mph.

Junior gave the colonel the answer to his unasked question. "We're able to translate that quickly because lap times are our best indicators to how well we are running. Daytona is one of our major tracks, so the conversions are almost instantaneous."

Mikey then cut in. "Normally, 170 is pretty slow for this track. During the race, times will be around 45 seconds, or 200 mph. These cars are double seaters, and are carrying more weight. They're gonna be slower than what we will run tonight."

"Wait a minute, Mikey. Are you telling me that ride I took with you was SLOW! I felt like I was gonna go flying out the back of the car!"

"Well, if you thought that was exciting, wait until you see us go 200 mph with 42 other drivers on the track. Now that is an adrenaline rush!"

DW spoke up. "Let's start the adrenaline rush early. Let's see if Mr. Unflappable can handle another few laps with Jimmie."

* * *

By this time, they were nearing the end of their time on track. Jimmie was putting the pedal to the metal, and going full blast into the corners. Fans were pressed up against the fence trying to get a closer look at the driver and his car. Each time Jimmie and Teal'c went by they got a blast of air and the smell of fuel.

There had been little talk while in the car. Teal'c was content to say nothing and just listen to the sounds, see the sights, and feel the emotions that were this new experience. The engine was roaring away in front of him, pulling the nearly two ton machine around the track. The grandstands were whizzing by, a mass of colors. The emotions were welling inside of him. This was incredible.

As the car started to slow, Teal'c heard Jimmie's voice over the headset. "Teal'c, it's been ten laps. Do you want to do more?"

"Indeed."

"Geez, you really don't talk much, do you?" Jimmie realized what he said and immediately spoke up. "Rhetorical question Teal'c. Let's try a moving burnout."

As they reached the start/finish line, Jimmie completely stopped the car. As the fans started pushing up against the fence, he pressed on both the gas and brake pedals. The car started billowing white smoke. They started moving sideways down the track, leaving a trail of rubber behind them. Suddenly, a loud bang came from the left side of the car, and Jimmie immediately headed for pit road.

* * *

The pre-race ceremonies weren't going to start for another hour, so the NASCAR guys decided to take SG-1 to meet some other drivers. They were heading down towards pit road when it happened. Jimmie blew a tire. He immediately turned around and headed towards them.

After Teal'c and Jimmie had unstrapped and crossed the pit wall, the teasing started. Jeff immediately started ribbing his teammate. "So, ya can't even do a burnout right! If you can blow a tire that easily, remind me to stay away from you during the race!"

"Hey, I stay away from him anyways. He's dangerous!"

"Cut it out, guys. Ask Teal'c. Was it fun? Would you do this again with me as the driver?"

"Undomesticated equines could not keep me away."

Every person within earshot, except SG-1, turned and stared. Jack edged closer to Teal'c. "Uh, T? The cliché is wild horses couldn't keep me away."

Mikey decided to cut the silence that followed that statement. "Well, now that we're on pit road, and we have a while before pre-race, what do ya'll say to meeting some other people?"

"Like who?"

"Like my buddy Matt Kenseth," said Junior.

"Or some of the young guns, like Ryan Newman, Carl Edwards, and Jamie McMurray," said Jeff.

At this point the colonel spoke up. "Ya know, I don't care who we meet, or where we go, as long as we get to hear those engines, and see those cars go!"

"Well, then let's go!" As they split up, Junior and Daniel started walking over towards the motor homes, Jeff and Jack headed towards the number 24 pit stall, Mikey and Teal'c went to one of the pit reporters, and Jimmie and Sam headed to the haulers.

All were thinking that the rest of the day was going to be interesting, but Teal'c summed it up best. As he and Mikey walked away from the pit stall, he was overhead saying, "One small step for Jaffa."

* * *

A/N: It's almost 2:30 in the morning, so there's no way I'm waking anyone up to beta. Requests for any other drivers, pit crew, or TV personalities? I'll try to work them in!

Oh, and the number 3 shaved in the hairy back? I have a picture of a guy with that taken at the Sharpie 500 at Bristol. I spit water all over the computer screen when my friend sent me that email.


	6. Separation

A/N: I'm so sorry for the massively rude wait. I hit a bad writer's block, and school, and work. Ugh. Anyways, Gater62, meet Matt Kenseth. I'm still working on putting in Herman. Any other driver requests? Oh, and I still don't have a beta, so any and all mistakes are mine.

* * *

Daniel and Junior walked over to the trailers that the drivers brought to every track. They seemed to stretch on for miles. Every one of them looked fully decked out. For example, the first one they passed had a paint job that was neon yellow, with M&M's being blown down the side. These were some crazy machines. Daniel and Junior were halfway through the maze of motor homes when Daniel started smiling. He recognized where they were heading. About 10 yards away from them was one incredible machine. It was 60 feet long, bright red, and had a giant number 8 emblazoned on the side. Obviously Junior's home away from home. Surprisingly, Junior bypassed his motor home and headed for the one right next to it. This one was identical in size, but the paint job was different. It was yellow with a black stripe down the middle, and had the number 17 on it. Daniel gave Junior a quizzical look. 

"I thought I'd introduce you to my buddy Matt Kenseth," said Junior. "He and I have been racing against each other for years, starting in the Busch series. We raced for two years in that series, and I kicked his ass by winning the championship both years. But he's returned the favor by winning Rookie of the year and a championship in the cup series, both of which I haven't done."

By this time, they were at the door of the trailer. Junior poked his head in the door. "Matt? Ya in there, bud?"

A voice floated out from the motorcoach. "Yeah. Come on in."

Once inside, Daniel looked around in amazement. This thing probably cost more than his apartment. They passed through a complete kitchen, into the living room. Lying on one of the couches was a man of about thirty. Matt had obviously just woken up from a nap, and was glaring at Junior. "Can't ya let a man get some sleep? Not all of us are night owls like you."

"Oh, you're just cranky because you're an old married man," Junior shot back.

Both men stared at each other for a minute, then burst out laughing. "So, wanna introduce me to your new friend?"

Junior looked to where Matt was pointing. "Oh, I forgot. Sorry. Matt, this is Daniel Jackson. Remember I told you I was taking some military people around this weekend? Daniel is a consultant for the military, and I figured after his ride, we should take it easy on him, and introduce him to other drivers. Don't scare him too badly." Somehow Junior managed all of this with a straight face.

"Well, Daniel, I'm glad to meet you. I'm Matt Kenseth, and this is my home away from home. Just kick back and relax. We've got about a half an hour before we need to head down for the driver's meeting, so anything you want to know about NASCAR, just ask!"

As Daniel settled into a chair he thought _this could be interesting!_

* * *

  
Meanwhile, in the number 24 pit stall, Jeff and the colonel were looking over the car, while simultaneously trying to stay out of the way of the crew. They were like a swarm of bees over the car, checking every connection, every fluid level, every piece of machinery. The hood was raised and the engine examined for any potential flaws. There was a crew member leaning in the driver's window, checking the dials and switches on the dash. He also checked the driver's compartment for comfort and made sure the straps weren't worn or torn. There were several more crew members checking the back of the car and the tires. 

Jack was looking beyond the insanity. It was actually a bit quieter than the SGC. This car was even more beautiful than the one he rode in. Since it wasn't a two-seater, it was smaller and sleeker looking. It was lower to the ground, and looked like you couldn't squeeze Carter in the driver's seat, let alone Mikey, who had a good foot in height on her.

"-nel? Colonel? Colonel O'Neill?"

"What! Oh." Jack slowly turned to see Jeff looking very quizzically at him. He'd spaced out again. Oh well.

"Well, colonel, we won't be firing up the car until the command is given in a few hours, but I can let you drool over it, at least up until inspection."

By this time the crew had finished their ministrations to the car, and were pushing it towards the garages, where the NASCAR officials were looking at each car, one by one. They would check everything the crew had done, and make sure they weren't breaking any rules to get an advantage in the race.

A man dressed in a uniform similar to Jeff's stepped up next to Jack. "Colonel O'Neill? I'm Steve Letarte, Jeff's crew chief. Would you like to help us push the car back to the inspection area? Jeff mentioned you love looking at the cars, and most of them are lined up there."

At Jack's eager nod, the crew chief grinned. "Just grab a piece of fender and push. Don't push the sheet metal, it bends too easily."

As they pushed the car back into the garage area, the colonel's jaw hit the ground. Cars were everywhere, crew members were walking around, and it sounded like several jackhammers were going off. And…add to the list popping his eyes back in their sockets after seeing some of the girls that were walking around. This was gonna be a great vacation.

* * *

Head were turning and eyes were following them the entire trip down pit lane. And quite honestly, it was for a good reason. Heads normally would turn when people saw Mikey. His antics alone were well known throughout NASCAR. This time, it was the man walking beside him that was causing the double takes. Teal'c was walking sedately down pit lane, ignoring most of the chaos that is the infield. That kind of stoicism was almost unheard on raceday. 

They stopped next to a pit stall that was literally plastered with the number 21. Leaning on the pit wall were two men, an older gentleman wearing a driver's uniform and a younger man wearing a uniform with the word FOX all over it. Mikey immediately walked towards them with a big grin on his face.

As they walked up to the two men, Mikey started the introductions. "Teal'c, I would like for you to meet two of my friends, Kenny Schrader, driver of the 21 car, and Alan Bestwick, pit reporter. Alan used to host a show that Kenny and I are panel members on."

Schrader cut in. "Personally, I think he left to save what little was left of his sanity."

"No, I lost that when I agreed to host the show."

"Hey, we did have some quality discussions on the show."

"When? I certainly wasn't there."

"The only time we maintained some semblance of order is when you weren't there, Mikey."

Throughout this exchange, Teal'c had been standing somewhat apart from the group. Externally, he looked his normal self. Internally, he was shaking his head. The three of them were going back and forth like a, what is that term, pinball. He may have just found the key to defeating the goa'uld. Stick these people in front of the Jaffa army. They wouldn't know which way to look.

* * *

"Well, Major Carter, welcome to the 48 team's raceday command center. It's where we keep all our extra supplies, including a backup car." 

Sam looked up at the monstrosity before her. The hauler was painted just like the car, with a blue background and a giant 48 on the side. Multitudes of sponsors were all over it, in every available space.

Jimmie motioned towards the door. "After you, milady."

Sam groaned inwardly. She already had three goofballs to deal with. She didn't need another. Then she stepped inside, and completely lost her train of thought. This was a mechanic's dream. There were parts everywhere, on top on countertops, on shelves, even on top of the spare car. Oh, god, the backup car.

Jimmie watched her expression change from exasperation, to amazement, to downright enrapture as they walked through the door. He saw her eyeing the car.

"Go check it out."

That was all the encouragement Sam needed. The words were no sooner out of his mouth than she was going headfirst into the driver's side window.

"Wow. This is incredible."

This car was both inferior and advanced at the same time. It was inferior compared to some of the other racing circuit. Before her ride earlier, she noticed they still used carburetors. Some of the other things she noticed were restrictor plates and no treaded tires. Bummer. No racing in the rain. It was advanced because of how fast the cars could go despite these disadvantages.

Jimmie grinned as he watched Sam raise the hood of the car and dive in. He shot a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. They had 30 minutes until the driver's meeting. With luck, he could get her out of here just before the race started. He was gonna need backup.


End file.
